


What Friends Are For

by tardigrape



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Sex, M/M, No Spoilers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, fight kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardigrape/pseuds/tardigrape
Summary: There aren’t many things Amos knows how to do well, but he does know how to help a friend in need.
Relationships: Amos Burton/Alex Kamal
Comments: 4
Kudos: 128





	What Friends Are For

**Author's Note:**

> No specific setting, but probably works best if you think of this happening somewhere in S2.

Amos is on his way back from the head when he hears it.

“Naw, I didn’t mean it like that. Just, well, it’s harder when—”

Amos steps into the galley. Alex is there, alone, muttering to the refrigerator. He startles when Amos’s footfall rings on the metal floor behind him. Amos cocks his head. “Hey man,” Amos says. “You okay?”

A series of expressions cross Alex’s face, and Amos can’t quite catch any of them. “Yeah, ’course. Just…talkin’ to myself.”

“Mmhm.” Amos squints at him. “Yourself, or the fridge there?”

Alex glances back at the appliance. “Yeah, I was just…you know…I mean, sometimes it’s like the ship hears what I say to her.” His eyes flick back toward Amos. “Like she understands.”

Amos shakes his head. “I think sometimes we do you wrong, leaving you here by yourself while we go running around shooting at things.”

“And I think sometimes we do you wrong, putting you in the path of bullets so we don’t have to catch them ourselves.” Alex’s voice has a raw edge to it.

Amos frowns and leans against the counter next to him. “That’s what I’m here for, though, right?” He picks at a fingernail.

“Yeah, that and beating the shit out of people. Anytime somebody needs to be bloodied, you’re on it.”

Amos scowls. “I know my place.”

“I didn’t mean that. Shit.” Alex sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I meant.”

Amos glances at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I dunno, man. Maybe I need something else.” He looks up, meets Amos’s gaze. He lays a hand on Amos’s arm. “Maybe we both do.”

Amos looks down at Alex’s hand resting on his bicep. Just resting there. Not punching him. Not grabbing him to whip him around. Not shoving him out of the way. Just touching. He looks back up at Alex, whose brows are drawn up, his face a picture of need.

There aren’t many things Amos knows how to do well, but he does know how to help a friend in need. He nods, and tilts his chin toward the door. “My berth,” he says quietly, and leads the way out of the galley. He doesn’t look to see if Alex follows. If Alex doesn’t need this that badly, that’s okay.

But Alex does follow. Amos closes the door behind them in his berth, and locks it. He turns to find Alex in front of him, close, his pupils wide in his dark eyes, his breath coming short. Taking a half step closer to him, Amos places a hand on the back of his neck. He leans in, slowly, lips parted, letting Alex close the last distance.

Alex’s lips brush across his, then press to Amos’s mouth firmly. They slip open and his tongue works into Amos’s mouth, and _fuck_. Suddenly Amos’s quiet resolve to simply help a friend is shattered. A roiling desire explodes in his belly, setting all his nerves tingling, all his senses focused on the man in front of him. His fingers tighten on Alex’s neck, pulling him closer, and he thrusts his own tongue into Alex’s mouth, greedily tasting him, his teeth coming together on Alex’s lip as he begins to pull away.

Alex whimpers, and Amos’s eyes fly open. A bright spot of blood swells on his lip. Amos bit harder than he thought.

 _Shit._ He pulls his hand off Alex’s neck, clenching it into a fist. _Shit, shit, shit. Big, stupid animal who doesn’t know his own strength, fucking things up again._ He squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep breaths, reigning in his need, regaining control.

“Hey.” A gentle hand touches his cheek. “Don’t do that.”

Amos opens his eyes. Alex is looking hard at him, searching his face. “Do what?”

“Don’t hold back. Just let go.”

Amos shakes his head. “Can’t. I’ll hurt you.”

Alex places his other hand on Amos’s face, cradling his head between them. “You know the difference between good hurt and bad hurt.” He leans in close. “I trust you.”

Amos looks hard into those eyes, searching for reservation, doubt, or fear, but doesn’t find it. Just open, honest trust, and the need that brought them both there in the first place.

He lets go of his hold on that need coiled tightly in his belly, lets it spill out into the rest of him, and finds himself pushing Alex backward, his hand moving from Alex’s chest to his throat, moving them both across the room before slamming Alex into the wall on the other side. Alex’s head bounces a bit so Amos closes his fingers around Alex’s jaw, pressing it against the wall. His jaw is hard and wide, its hairs rough against Amos’s palm, and Amos becomes very aware of the masculine solidity of him. Not like the belter girls Amos is used to, their bodies made of bones and need, or even the inners, whose lines are less angular. Alex is big, not like Amos is big, but built thickly, his muscles dense.

Amos crushes his mouth against Alex’s, feeling his cock grow hard inside his pants. Alex kisses him back, but his body remains still, unmoving. “You gonna just take it,” Amos growls, his lips brushing against Alex’s, “or are you gonna make me work for it?”

Alex’s eyes widen, and a smile spreads across his lips. He raises an arm inside the one Amos is using to pin him to the wall. Amos shifts to grab his arm, but it throws him off balance just enough for Alex to duck out of his grip. Amos whirls and catches his arm as he tries to dart past, throwing him into the wall to the side, face first this time. Amos pins him there, one arm twisted up behind his back. Amos leans in close, grinds his cock into the curve of Alex’s ass, eliciting a moan from him. Amos smiles and pushes a bit more, but he’s forgotten to keep tight hold of Alex’s arm, and Alex shoves back against him.

Amos stumbles but doesn’t fall, then grabs Alex around the waist, throwing him heavily to the floor. They land hard, Alex on his back, Amos on top of him with a knee against his hip. Amos places his forearm across Alex’s chest to keep him down.

From the door comes pounding and Holden’s voice. “Hey! What’s going on in there?”

Amos turns and shouts over his shoulder. “Not now, Holden!”

“Sounds like a fight!”

Alex’s voice is a strangled cry. “Go! Away!”

Amos can’t be sure whether Holden got the message, but he’s willing to gamble on him not taking a blowtorch to the door, and turns his attention back to Alex. They’ve shifted a bit while yelling at the door, and Amos is now straddling the pilot, whose erection beneath the coveralls bunched at his waist has become deliciously obvious. Amos pulls his arm away from Alex’s chest, grabs his shirt in both hands, and pulls it swiftly over his head. Alex reaches for the hem of Amos’s shirt, but Amos pushes back down on him again, replacing his arm across Alex’s chest. He tugs his own shirt off one-handed, and Alex stops struggling. Amos tosses his shirt aside and looks down to find Alex staring wide-eyed at his torso, his eyes roving over every angle.

“Like what you see?” he asks, feeling a deep warmth at the look on Alex’s face. Alex looks back up at him and grins, and Amos leans down to kiss him again, not as rough now, but still without releasing his hold on him. Amos savors the kiss before finally breaking it to trace a trail of kisses down Alex’s jaw and neck and onto his shoulder. There, his kisses become wetter, his mouth opening wider, before finally he sinks his teeth into the meaty flesh there.

Alex cries out, but Amos gives him no mercy, releasing him only to move to a new spot and bite down again. The feeling of muscle bunching between his teeth is so damn good his cock twitches, and he grinds hard against Alex, letting him know the effect this is having on him. Alex moans deeply, which turns into a whine of pleasure and pain as Amos bites down again.

Fuck but his skin is delicious. Amos’s mouth waters, wondering what his other parts taste like. At this thought Amos rises to his feet. He bends, unzips Alex’s coveralls the rest of the way, and whips them off, all in one motion. Alex’s shorts are tight over his erection, and a little wet spot frames the outline of its tip. Amos pulls these off as well, inhaling sharply as Alex’s cock comes free. He wets his lips and kneels, then slides Alex’s cock into his mouth.

The taste is salty and bitter and so fucking good, Amos can’t help but massage his own cock through his coveralls. Alex’s fingers tangle in his hair and he moans, bucking his hips up, pushing his cock to the back of Amos’s throat.

Amos pulls off him. He looks up, finding that Alex has raised his head to see why Amos stopped. “You like deepthroating, huh?” Amos says, unzipping his own coveralls now. “Well, two can play that game.” He stands, pushes his coveralls and shorts off, and kicks them aside. He reaches down and grabs a fist full of Alex’s hair, pulling him up into a sitting position and roughly to his cock. Alex doesn’t even try to protest as Amos pinches his mouth open, but he presses his palms against Amos’s thighs as Amos grabs the back of his head and shoves it down onto his cock.

Alex’s mouth is hot and wet, and Amos slams into it, feeling fingernails bite into his skin as Alex tries to push him away. Alex’s throat tightens around Amos’s tip, and Amos pulls back. Good hurt and bad hurt, Amos knows that line. Alex coughs as Amos pulls out of his mouth, a line of spit connecting his cock to Alex’s lips. Tears are running down Alex’s cheeks.

“Too much for you?” Amos says, grinning. Alex merely wipes his mouth in response.

Enough of this. Amos bends, wraps an arm around Alex’s waist, and flips him over. He uses that same arm to haul him to his knees, while using his other hand to push his head to the floor. Alex’s dark asshole winks up at him. Amos bends and presses his mouth to it, sliding his tongue in against the pressure. Alex moans deeply and pushes back against him. Amos runs his tongue around the rim, then pulls back and slides two fingers in. The tightness pinches, then relaxes. Good. Amos works his fingers briefly, but his cock is begging to feel that tightness, so he gives in and readies himself behind Alex.

He places the tip of his cock against Alex’s hole and spits, letting the saliva coat them both. Then he pushes, not at all gently, sliding in with one movement, pulling Alex back against him by the hips. Alex cries out, and Amos’s brain reminds him again: good hurt and bad hurt. So he moves slow and small, despite the ache in his balls at the tight pinch of Alex’s ass around his cock. Slow and small, building as the pinch releases, getting faster and harder. Finally he can slide his cock almost entirely out and back in again, and he begins to thrust hard, pulling Alex back by the hips. But it’s not enough. He grabs Alex by the hair and yanks his head back, his other hand on his shoulder. Braced like this, he slams as hard as he can into him, feeling the tight ring of his ass sliding up and down his cock, the wet smack of his skin against his torso, the tug of his head against Amos’s firm grip on his hair. Amos pounds furiously, the animal in his gut taking over, coiling, then finally releasing, exploding out of him and into Alex. He keeps Alex’s hair wound in his fist until it’s over, only letting go as he collapses against his back, panting.

Alex wriggles out from underneath him, so Amos pushes himself up long enough to stagger to the bed and flop onto it, one arm thrown across his face. He’s still panting like he ran a marathon, and his skin is slick with sweat. Shit, life aboard ship has gotten him out of shape.

Alex moves to stand beside the bed, slowly stroking his cock. Amos looks up at him from under his arm.

“Catch your breath,” Alex says, “then get up. It’s my turn to get what I need.”

Amos smiles. He almost forgot he thought he was doing the pilot a favor when they entered this room. Goddamn, but he had needed that release. He sits up, shakes his head to clear it, and focuses on Alex’s cock, which is now angled toward him.

“A bit less rough, if you don’t mind,” Alex says as Amos opens his mouth.

Amos grins, shooting a glance up at him, and closes his lips over Alex’s cock. Alex adjusts his stance closer and pushes his hips forward. Amos wraps his fingers around the base of Alex’s cock as his mouth begins to work his shaft, his tongue wrapping around him. Alex moans, and one of his hands comes to rest on Amos’s head. But he doesn’t grab hair, doesn’t shove Amos’s head down. Just holds him there, like he needs to know Amos isn’t going to leave.

Leaving is the furthest thing from Amos’s mind. He’s busy reminding himself how to open his throat so that he can push his lips farther down Alex’s cock. They can almost but not quite brush against the skin of his torso. Amos moves his fingers to cup Alex’s balls, squeezing gently, eliciting a string of profanity from the pilot. He moves faster, massages harder, as the taste in his throat deepens, becomes muskier, and he knows Alex is close. He leans into the rhythm of Alex’s thrusts as the grip on his scalp tightens just for a moment, then pulls back as Alex squirts into his mouth, keeping his lips wrapped around his cock.

Amos slides back off Alex’s cock, licking away his cum, and rolls it around his tongue a couple of times before swallowing. He looks up to find Alex watching him intently. “Wouldn’t have figured you for a guy who swallows,” Alex says, sinking to sit next to him as his unsteady knees give way.

Amos shrugs. “Guess I just like the taste.”

Alex leans back, moving gingerly. Purple bruises have already begun to blossom on his skin, the shapes of Amos’s fingers and teeth clearly outlined. “Did I hurt you?” Amos asks.

Alex shakes his head slightly. “Not too bad.” He looks up and smiles. “Good hurt. Not bad hurt.”

Amos grins, relief flooding through him. “Guess if Holden had any doubt what was going on in here, your bruises will confirm it for him.”

Alex’s eyes widen, and he stands and staggers to the mirror, tilting his head to look at all sides of his neck and shoulders. “Sonofabitch,” he says, poking at them. “Dammit, Amos, did you have to mark me up like a teenager?”

“You didn’t mind when I was doing it,” Amos says, grinning.

“Shit.” Alex runs a hand through his hair. “Well, like you said, Cap knows anyway. What difference will a few bruises make?”

“You feel better, at least?” Amos asks.

Alex turns and smiles. “Yeah, I do. You?”

Amos chuckles. “Didn’t even know I felt bad before. But yeah, much better now.”

Alex nods. “Listen, you ever need me again, just holler.”

Amos winks in response. “Same to you, man.”


End file.
